


And If You Have Nightmares--

by WildnessBecomesYou



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, They're just babies, fully grown babies, through some wild wild trauma, tryna make it in this crazy world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildnessBecomesYou/pseuds/WildnessBecomesYou
Summary: Three times where Mildred has a nightmare; Gwendolyn learns how to care for her love.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 18
Kudos: 148





	And If You Have Nightmares--

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SBWomenofMarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBWomenofMarvel/gifts).



> What it says on the tin! Requested by SBWomenofMarvel. 
> 
> Title from the song "Guillotine" by Jon Bellion. (Off of The Human Condition, which is a really masterful album actually!)
> 
> Full disclosure, I wrote this at 4am after a long night at work, I am so sorry if there are typos or it doesn't make sense

The first time Mildred has a nightmare, Gwendolyn hasn’t joined her in bed yet. She’s making tea in the kitchen, getting ready to go up to bed herself— poor Mildred had been absolutely exhausted when she came home, kept nearly falling asleep on her own hand during dinner. So Gwendolyn had herded her upstairs, pushed her in the shower, laid out some comfortable nightclothes, and come back downstairs to continue writing. 

She assumes Mildred is fast asleep by the time she’s done, the sun well down in the sky. She sets the papers aside; she’ll send them to the Mayor in the morning. 

She wonders how much influence the governor’s sister must have had over him to recommend her for a short term project with another politician. 

She takes a sip of her tea— still a little too hot, and she hisses a breath out— and then all of a sudden, there’s a blood-curdling scream.

She’s dropped her mug on the floor and run for the stairs before she can think twice. 

“Mildred?” she calls as she rounds the corner at the bottom of the stairs. “Mildred!” 

She can hear sobbing, and she takes the last few stairs two at a time, bounding into what’s become their shared room.

She finds Mildred sat up, her knees to her chest and her forehead against her knees, arms wrapped around her legs. She’s sobbing, a slow strung-together slur of “no, no, no, please, no” coming out of her like a record jumping a loop. 

“Mildred, oh—“ she approaches slowly, and watches Mildred flinch, curl back in on herself. “Mildred, it’s me, it’s Gwendolyn, what’s—“

She has a knee on the bed before Mildred has flown at her, arms slung around her shoulders, face pressed into her neck. Gwendolyn closes her eyes as she wraps her arms around the sobbing woman. Mildred has climbed on top of her at this point, pressing close, her thighs against Gwendolyn’s sides; she’s practically sitting on top of the leg Gwendolyn has on the bed. 

“I can’t— they can’t— I didn’t do anything— I’m sorry,” Mildred wails, her shoulders shaking. Gwendolyn squeezes her eyes shut just a bit tighter against the stinging behind them, sweeps her arm up and down Mildred’s back.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs, presses a kiss to Mildred’s hair. “It’s alright, you’re safe, I’ve got you.” 

Mildred’s tears soak through the shirt Gwendolyn is wearing as she shakes her head. “I promise,” Gwendolyn says, “no one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

She holds Mildred as her sobs shake her, until the trembling is from exhaustion rather than fear. She starts to lay Mildred down, but the younger woman scrabbles for purchase at her shoulders, trying to cling to her. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gwendolyn murmurs. “Just let me get these off and I’ll be right with you.” Mildred lets her go, reluctantly, and Gwendolyn hurries to unbutton her shirt and trousers. She doesn’t bother with the brassiere, or the socks, climbing into bed with Mildred instead. 

The younger woman is on her immediately, and even though her breathing has slowed down and her crying has stopped, Gwendolyn doesn’t think she’ll be letting go tonight. She lets a quiet moment pass before she asks, “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

Mildred pushes her face in against Gwendolyn’s chest and tucks a leg between her two. She doesn’t say anything. “All I heard was a scream. You scared me, darling.” She softens her words with another kiss dropped to the top of Mildred’s head, hoping she won’t think Gwendolyn is upset with her. 

“I’m sorry,” Mildred murmurs, muffled by Gwendolyn’s skin, “I just had a nightmare.” 

Gwendolyn knows that’s all she’s going to get out of Mildred on that topic. “Alright,” she says. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Go back to sleep.” 

In the morning, as Mildred watches Gwendolyn brush her teeth, Gwendolyn says, “You know, when I used to have nightmares as a child, my father always used to tell me that speaking them aloud took away their power.” 

Mildred gives her a weak, uncertain smile. 

The second nightmare catches Gwendolyn by surprise, but she’s at least there when it starts. 

She’s just starting to fall asleep, having packed a full suitcase with clothes Mildred had approved for Mexico. She still can’t believe, sometimes, that she’d agreed to it, but they’ve only got a week and a half before Mildred wants to take off. Gwendolyn had managed to convince her to wait a few extra days and make sure she wouldn’t lose her breakfast all over the side of the road. 

So a suitcase had been packed. She’d need to pack another, but it would give Mildred peace to see it. So she’d packed it when Mildred had fallen asleep. 

It starts with a jerk from Mildred, a full body twitch that wakes Gwendolyn all the way up. “Mildred?” she asks quietly, but the woman still seems to be asleep. She reaches out, brushes her fingers against the silk covering Mildred’s back. 

A quiet moment passes between them, Gwendolyn’s eyes drifting closed.

And Mildred jerks again, and this time it’s accompanied by a small cry. Gwendolyn props herself up on her elbow and sighs, reaches for her shoulder before she pauses, hovering just above it. “Mildred.” 

Mildred sits up— or she tries to, except she wasn’t laying on her back to begin with, so she shoots off the bed. “Mildred!” 

She writhes on the floor for a second, caught up in some sheets and shrieking at them, before Gwendolyn can follow her to the floor. She pins her to the ground on instinct. “Mildred, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

“Get off of her,” Mildred screams, and it’s angry. It’s furious, it’s like wind ripping through a home in a tornado, it’s like an earthquake shaking a house apart, and it rattles Gwendolyn’s bones. “Get off of her, or I’ll—“

Her eyes uncloud, and she spots Gwendolyn, and all the fight goes out of her. “Oh my god,” she breathes, reaching up for her. 

Gwendolyn holds her hands, brings them to her face, slides her hands to Mildred’s wrists. “Mildred,” she breathes. “Mildred, it’s alright, I’m here.”

Mildred just stares at her. She stares at Gwendolyn like she stares at the ocean; baffled it’s there, delighted by the majesty and danger of it, terrified to be swept up in it but wanting to dive in. She grips at Gwendolyn’s face with her fingers, and Gwendolyn can practically feel both their heartbeats through her hands. “Mildred,” she breathes, “darling, I’m here.” 

There’s a long moment of silence before Mildred swallows, realizing where they are. “H-how did we…”

“You rolled off the bed,” Gwendolyn murmurs, sits up further, reaches for the edge of the bed to help her up. Mildred is out from under her in a swift movement, hands under her armpits, lifting her. “Thank you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mildred says in return as they both climb in. “I— it was a nightmare, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to—“

“How often do you have those?” Gwendolyn interrupts. 

It’s not that she minds, and she certainly doesn’t want Mildred to think she does. She doesn’t mind. She’s just worried. How many nights had Mildred gone without comfort? How many times had she feared or cried or trembled, alone? How many times had Gwendolyn just not known?

Mildred pulls the covers up to her chest, then looks down at her hands. “Regularly,” she says weakly. 

“How often? Twice a year? A month?”

“Probably one or two a week in good times,” Mildred says. She won’t look up.

“Jesus Christ, Mildred.”

This causes Mildred’s head to snap up, eyes wide, teeth on her bottom lip.

“No, no—“ Gwendolyn reaches for her, tugs her bottom lip loose with her thumb. “I’m not mad at you, sweetness, I could never be mad at you for having a nightmare, don’t be ridiculous. Just…why didn’t you tell me?”

“I… I don’t usually need help,” she answers. It’s so shy, it’s so quiet, that Gwendolyn barely hears it, even in the still of the night. “I’m not used to having help.”

“Well, I’m here, so get used to it,” Gwendolyn says firmly. It draws a small smile out of her love. “Tell me what they’re about.” Mildred looks hesitant at that, and Gwendolyn sighs. “I promise, you’ll feel better. It takes the power away from the monsters and gives it back to you— that’s what my father used to say. If you name the fears, they can’t stalk you in the dark.” 

Mildred sighs. “Can— can you hold me?”

“Of course.” She opens her arms and Mildred snuggles closer, her fingers finding the collar of Gwendolyn’s nightshirt. She takes a few deep breaths before she starts. 

“Sometimes I dream of those foster homes,” she whispers, voice still a little shaky. “All the things that used to happen. Before and after Edmund, and before and after we were separated. Sometimes I dream I’m being hunted by someone, and I can’t tell who.” Now that she’s started, it seems to spill out of her, like she can’t stop it. “Sometimes I dream I’m in the hospital. Sometimes I dream someone is killing me. Sometimes I watch the people I love kill each other, or be killed, and I’m trapped in a glass box and can’t even scream for help and sometimes—“ she heaves in a breath and Gwendolyn rubs big arcs against her back. “Sometimes I dream I’m losing you. In all sorts of horrible ways. You walk out, or you waste away, or someone hurts you— sometimes it’s Edmund, and I can’t stop him, nothing I do can stop him, and I lo—“

Her voice breaks and she shoves her face into Gwendolyn’s neck. 

Gwendolyn is…taken aback. She knows she’s important to Mildred; the nurse wouldn’t have insisted on chemotherapy, wouldn’t be moving them to Mexico, if she didn’t matter to her. But she wasn’t aware that she was this important. That she was something to fear losing. 

She manages to snake her hand between them, push Mildred’s face back to look at her. “I am not leaving you,” she says firmly, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. She doesn’t really care if she’s lying at this point. “Do you hear me? I am not leaving you, and no one can take me away.”

Mildred lets loose a sob, but doesn’t stop staring at her.

“Besides, I’ve already survived being shot in the chest,” she jokes. 

Mildred smacks her shoulder weakly. “That’s not funny, Gwendolyn.” 

“Sure.” She hugs Mildred back to her. “Do you think you can sleep?”

“I… I do feel a little better,” she admits. She turns her head so her ear is pressed against Gwendolyn’s chest. “If I can listen to your heartbeat, I think— I think I can.”

“Alright then,” Gwendolyn says, closing her eyes. “And you wake me up if you have another bad dream.”

“You need your rest,” Mildred complains.

“So do you.” Mildred huffs, but she doesn’t argue. 

The next time she has a nightmare, it’s about a week later. Gwendolyn has already risen for the day and returned to bed with a cup of tea. Her chemotherapy has ended, and in a few days, Mildred will spend her last moments at Lucia State Hospital, and the two of them will be off. Most of Gwendolyn’s second bag has been packed, and Mildred has started on her own two bags. They have regular arguments over who’s car they’ll be driving down.

Gwendolyn thinks she’s winning. 

She’s setting down her tea— mint, to help with the lingering nausea— when Mildred sits straight up with a gasp. “Mildred? Darling?”

She watches Mildred bring a hand to her chest, bring it away with that hand shaking. She’s staring at her own hand. “Mildred, darling, it’s alright.” 

She reaches for Mildred. Mildred reaches back. “I— I’m not—“ she shakes her head. “There’s no blood.”

“That’s right,” Gwendolyn nods. She must have had a bad dream, Gwendolyn supposes one where she’d been hunted. “No blood. You’re safe, it’s alright, you’re here and you’re okay.” 

Mildred scoots closer, her hands wrapping around Gwendolyn’s wrist and thigh. “You’re alright,” Gwendolyn repeats, tilting her forehead down to meet Mildred’s. The younger woman accepts the closeness, nuzzles against her. “You’re alright.”

“Thank you,” Mildred breathes, and Gwendolyn thinks her breathing may have actually evened out. 

When Mildred sits up, her eyes are clearer, and she offers a weak smile. “Good morning,” she rasps. 

“Hmmm, well, I think we can certainly make it better,” Gwendolyn smiles. Mildred lets out a guffaw, swats at Gwendolyn’s thigh. But she scoots back against her too. Gwendolyn wraps her arms around Mildred, tugging her between her legs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We can certainly make it a good morning.” 

Mildred hums against her, tilting her head back to rest on Gwendolyn’s shoulder. “I love you, do you know that?” 

It feels out of the blue, but it seems like the most natural thing Mildred has ever said. “Well,” she answers, “aren’t we lucky. I do believe I’m in love with you.” 

Mildred smiles, tilts her head up to place a kiss to Gwendolyn’s jaw. Then she steals Gwendolyn’s tea cup, takes a sip. 

“Hey!” 

“Good lord, Gwendolyn, this is ice cold.”

“I made that for me—“

“Well you need a new one. Come on, let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Leave some thoughts below :)


End file.
